The False King and the Forgotten Queen
by LadyLokiOfBakerStreet
Summary: Thanks to Khaleesi Cosima Laufeyson for title help Loki is at last on the throne of Asgard, posing as Odin. Miles away a slightly arrogant young woman named Sigyn, ruling over a small kingdom, finds out what few know: that the king of Asgard is not who they appear. With the end of the world approaching, can these two individuals who might be more alike than they think save it?
1. Chapter 1

_Sorry, I havenʻt gotten around to naming it yet... Iʻm terrible when it comes to titling stories :(_

Chapter 1

Loki

So this is what it feels like to sit on the throne. To look down upon all of them, be loved by all of them. To know that they will do whatever I wish, whatever I bid. Of course, if they knew who I really was, and where their former king was, they would hate me. And thatʻs exactly why all of Asgard believes the All-Father to be on the throne and Loki Laufeyson to be dead. Well, almost all of them. The head of the Asgardian Guard knows, but he is the only one I can trust, and only him barely.

Thatʻs who I am. My name is Loki Laufeyson, and I am the rightful king of Asgard. At last, it is more than a dream. So why am I not entirely happy?

"Your Majesty, please! My servant has stolen much of my wealth and he must be punished!" There is one issue with being a king: itʻs rather exhausting to hear each and every false plea from each nobleman or impoverished maid.

"No, she did not. In fact, you kicked her from your castle when she put too much salt in your stew. Iʻm afraid she beat you to Asgard, Bjarke. Leave now, and stop bothering me!" I respond quickly. Itʻs been the fourth time in two days when Bjarke has tried to convince me of how he has been so wronged. "Close the gates of the castle. I need time to think," I demand to a nearby guard.

So I have all of Asgard under my control. How fun. I can make them my army, but what else? Well, if I want an army, I will need a commander. It can hardly be me, for I only kill when I have no choice, or have reason. And who better than one of the oldest, most notorious villains of Asgard? Surtur, the man of flame, who has been imprisoned in Asgard for so many years. I cannot trust him, but I can certainly trick him.

"Free Surtur immediately." I say quickly, no, demand, to the remaining guard in the throne room.

He looks rather bewildered, and for good reason. They say Surtur is one of the worst villains of Asgard, and freeing him would be a foolʻs move. Little do they know...

Nevertheless, the guard leaves the room, and I am at last alone, albeit undefended. Thor is on earth, and I can only hope that he is happy. For all that Thor has done to me, all the revenge I never received, I wish him to be safe. He took care of me more than Father ever did. Odin, who now is in the deepest vault, disguised as an ordinary prisoner. He is to have no contact with any, and I delivered him to the prison myself. At last, I have revenge on the man who lied to me. Who cast me out, imprisoning me for what was his own fault in the first place. Now he knows what it is like to spend months alone, with no one come for company but thoughts. How it eats away at you, drives you insane.

Enough of Odin. What other fun can I have now that I am sitting on the throne of Asgard? As the first guard returns, it comes to me. "Secure the outer edges of the kingdom, and if possible, expand them." Why not? I have the resources, why not get more wealth, more control? I have everything, but there can always be more.

Sigyn

This is my kingdom. Itʻs not much, but how I love looking out over it. When the sunʻs setting, just hunting, patrolling the borders of our land. Just like my mother did. With my friends, or, more accurately, my second-in-commands. Iʻm not exactly a queen, but Iʻm pretty damn close. I have no palace, just a sea of tents, leather and hardy. I have no jewels, only the clothing my mother brought from Asgard. I have no heir either, but I suppose thereʻs time for that.

It is on one such night, when we are about, just as the sun sets, when an... army appears on the horizon. It has been years since such a thing happened.

"What are they doing here?" Magnhild whispers, tone hostile as usual.

"Shhh, weʻll find out soon." The warriors march towards us, hardly dressed for camouflage. We, on the other hand, are. I step forward, my boot barely crunching on the ground beneath. The army outnumbers us, three to one, but weʻve fought greater odds before. Theyʻre on our land, and we need to find out why. Odin set off this portion of land to my mother thousands of years before. Asgard cannot try to take it back after all all this time. I reach for my sword. I grip it tightly as we creep forward.

"Did you hear something?" one of the men asks.

I freeze.

"Stop it, Erling. There is no one out here." His companion says.

I smile behind the edges of my cloak. Nobody but me- the goddess Asgard forgot.

Weʻve come close to them, hiding in the shadows of boulders, in the dark.

"Itʻs time." I whisper. The rest of my band make a quiet circle around the sixty men. They still seem to still suspect nothing. I look around our dark circle, then leap forward, waiting for the others to follow. My sword clashes into the armor of the man nearby, and he falls to the ground out of purely surprise.

"Donʻt kill anyone until you know why theyʻre here." I shout over the clashing of swords.

I knock down one man with the back of my sword, and he falls unconscious. This is too easy. I have no training, unlike these warriors, but I learned from the greats, or, more like my mother. The story is legendary among my people, how she tried to rebel against Asgard itself, and almost succeeded. The All-Father banished her to the border of the realm, but never out of it, for he knew that someday, Asgardʻs armies would be outmatched. And when that day came, and she helped bring the kingdom to victory, Odin gave my mother a small portion of land of her own, on the condition that she would never return to the palace again. And so here I am...

"Dammit, Sigyn! Stop getting lost in your thoughts in the middle of a battle!" Maghildt shouts as she puts an arrow through the hand of the warrior behind me, sword raised.

"Thanks," I tell her quickly. Come on, focus. Donʻt get yourself killed...

I search the crowd of guards, each being beaten by my small troops. It really was pathetic. But where was their leader? I quickly push anyone, friend or foe, out of the way, with the side of my sword. "Iʻll take it from here," I tell Brenna, who is viciously attacking a man in heavily-polished gold armor. She steps out of the way rather reluctantly, and I crouch next to the man, sword at his throat. "Are you the leader?"

"Why would I tell you? Whatʻs a bunch of girls doing fighting Asgard?" he retorts.

"Weʻre not a bunch of girls, as you put it. And this is my land." I say, drawing a bit of blood as my grip on the sword tightens.

"Yes, Iʻm their leader." He chokes out, then falls silent.

"What are you doing on the land that is rightfully mine?" I ask.

"Our king commands that we secure the border lands. And this is the border lands," he says.

"No, it is not! You have already passed the border lands. Your king decreed years before, that this would be my land, not his."

"The All-Father grows old. Perhaps he has forgotten in his old age." He responds, then mutters to himself, "Or perhaps it is no longer him who rules Asgard."

I whirl around. "What did you say?" I turn to Brenna, who has a spy within Asgard to tell us what is happening inside the palace. "Have you heard anything of the passing of Odin?"

"No," she says, looking just as confused as I feel.

"Oh, I never said anything of that sort..." the guardsmen says, trying to backtrack. But I didnʻt hear anything wrong.

"Who rules Asgard now?"

The guard is silent.

"Tell me who sits on the throne, or I might have to kill you." I tell him. And I will. Well, actually, I might not, but a threat is all it takes.

"Loki Laufeyson, son of Odin."

"My lady Sigyn... Thor was the heir to the throne, not his younger brother," Brenna tells me.

"Did he take the throne rightly?" A bit more blood stains my sword.

"N-no."

"Go home," I say disdainfully. "And tell your fake king that he will not take the land that belongs to me!" I lift my sword, turning away.

"He wonʻt like that much..." The guard says, scrambling to his feet.

I donʻt even turn around. "See if I care."

As I retreat back into the woods, Maghildt says, "If there is a man on the throne who wishes to take back our kingdom or whatever you wish to call it, we need to do something about that."

I shake my head. "Youʻre always so ready for war. Iʻve said it once, Iʻll say it again: I do not involve myself with the politics of Asgard."

"Well, you do always say that. But you never keep that promise." Brenna says honestly.

"This time, I will." I say, steeling myself. Traveling to Asgard would be foolish. Yet what Maghildt says is correct: we cannot let anyone think they can take our tiny kingdom away. Not when its all we have.

"Prepare my horse! I leave for Asgard at daybreak!" I shout as we return to camp. Maghildt looks smugly at me, seeing that she has won once again. I roll my eyes at her, a doubt in my mind about my decision. Too late for doubts, though.


	2. Chapter 2

Loki

The day starts terribly. To be exact, it starts with having to explain to approximately fifty-two peasants why their concerns are absolutely stupid. If this is being king, then its way overrated. For barely a second, sitting on this damn throne, one-quarter listening to whatever is being said, I regret it. Lying to my brother. Letting him think I was dead. And for this? For this terrible torture. I assure myself that this will get better... I mean, it has to. I have riches and respect and everything I ever wanted. The man I once called my father locked in the same cell that he once locked me in. All because of one mistake I made. Now he will pay, and now I will rule.

"Next!" declare, signalling to a nearby guard to lead the man out of the hall. At that unfortuante moment, however, a guard rushes through the throngs of people. A guard who I quickly recognize as the head of the guard, though he hardly looks like a soldier of Asgard anymore. His throat has a deep gash across it, a sword wound. People quickly move out of the way of Captain Arvid.

"Guards! Move the peasants out of the castle and seal it tight!" A couple men obey, herding the crowds out of the golden hall, amid protests.

"Listen to us, Your Majesty!"

"Cruel king!"

They all fall silent as the heavy golden doors slam to a close. I turn to my limping captain of the guard.

"What happened, Arvid? Why are you returning bloodied instead of triumphant?"

He stumbles to the ground, kneeling before the throne.

"Stand," I demand.

He shakes his head slowly. "I barely can, Your Majesty." I quickly morph into my actual form, tired of masquerading unecessarily as the man I hate.

"The guard was attacked. On the most northern reaches of Asgard." He manages to gasp out. I whirl around to face him. There are few that live in that region, so who would be there to attack them?

"Who has the power to defeat the most powerful army in all the realms?" I ask him.

"A bunch of women, it seems," He says, rather embarassed.

"What?"

"Young women who somehow know how to fight better than Asgard."

"Did any say their names?"

"The woman... her name was Sigyn. She was young, perhaps your age, but definitely proud, arrogant. Tried to kill me," he grumbles, then continues, "Said Odin gave her mother the land long ago. She was the one that did this. Must be the leader," He said, gesturing to the cut. "I would watch out. Better let them keep the land, though, if you permit me saying so. Theyʻll probably kill us next time..."

I shake my head. "We cannot let anyone keep land from us, the greatest kingdom of all the realms. Make sure the soldiers are prepared this time. You are dismissed." I wave him away, leaving me to think. Iʻve never heard of her, a goddess who has more battle skill than the best guard in Asgard, a girl who rules over her own kingdom. But whoever she is, whoever has gone unnoticed by my kingdom for years, will not be unknown any longer. Any deal of Odinʻs is just that: a deal of Odinʻs. Not mine.

Sigyn

I awake before the sun even rises, perhaps because I only slept for barely an hour, too busy reading old manuscripts. Pulling on my hooded cape, I stumble into the twilight, where some of the village is abustle, talking, laughing, and eating.

"Damn. How am I supposed to ride to Asgard when Iʻm still half asleep?" I complain to Maghildt, who is already awake and preparing to go hunting. She looks up from constructing yet another arrow to add to her collection of hundreds, sighing.

"Donʻt read so much, Sigyn. Anyway, isnʻt history rather boring?" She tells me, just as Brenna bounces in, somehow full of energy before daybreak.

"Yeah, Sigyn, hang out with guys instead. You have to continue your bloodline or whatever eventually," she joins in. Maghildt rolls her eyes, a common motion from both of us when Brenna enters the room. She may be skilled with a knife and be my third-in-command, yet she can also be exceedingly annoying.

"Brenna. Every man here is so... boring. Yes, thatʻs the right word. All they do is hunt and laugh and drink. Like children. Iʻll marry when I find the right person, you understand? And no, Maghildt, history is interesting. It teaches you how to run a kingdom, what to do, and what not to do." I respond to both of their incorrect arguments.

"Couldnʻt your mom have brought some handsome and intelligent men from Asgard, at least?" Maghildt says, smiling a bit, which is rare for her.

"Apparently not."

I scramble to my feet at the quickest speed I can, which, in reality, is slow motion. Making my way to the stables, I pass by children playing in the grass, smoke flowing from chimneys, girls practicing their spearthrowing. Asgard has nothing on my kingdom. It may be bigger, it may be stronger, but we are happier. And nobody is taking that away.

"My lady Sigyn. Your horse is waiting," a scrawny teenage boy some years younger than myself says, bowing slightly.

I chuckle. "No need to bow before me. Though its quite flattering, as a matter of fact."

Continuing on my way, I soon arrive at the heavy wooden gates of the stables. Tied to the outside is my horse Astrid, a jet black mare that is descended from those that once belonged to the royal family of Asgard.

"Hello, darling," I whisper to her, as I untie the rope that keeps her from running off. Not that she would. Everyone here, even the horses, live lovely lives.

"When will you be back, my lady?" Maghildt asks, swiftly approaching beside Brenna.

"By tommorow noon at the very latest. If I do not return by then, I suppose I will have lost the second swordfight of my life. But as I vowed never to do that again, I think Iʻll be returning shortly. With our kingdom safe and sound," I tell her.

Gracefully as possible, I mount Astrid. People are watching. I can be vulnerable, I can be human, I can be clumsy with those I trust. With my kingdom watching, however, I have to be invincible.

I spur her on, bounding quickly from the village. The last thing I hear is Brennaʻs singsong shout, "Bring back some hot soldiers, if possible!"

Shaking my head, I glance around the landscape at the crest of the hill above our village. Behind me, is shelter, but in front of me, lies all of Asgard. To the east is the mountains, where lies the gateways of legend to the other realms. In the west, the land is flat and green. And to the south, in the distance, the golden castle looms. Itʻs a twelve-hour ride by horse, and that is as the crow flies. At a fast gallop. Better get going.


	3. Chapter 3

Night falls quickly, with the sunʻs bright orange glow giving away to a dark sky devoid of stars. Iʻm relieved. Iʻve had enough of this day only filled with bad news. The guards leave the hall, off to bed or whatever they do when their work here is done. Yet I stay sitting, on this throne that I have waited so long to rule upon. Its rather overrated, being king, though its lovely to be able to do whatever I wish, to have all this power. And even better is the fact that even though Odin did all he could to keep me from getting the throne, he failed. I succeeded, and he, the man I hate, failed.

When the last guard closes the heavy golden doors behind him, I transform back into my true self. Its tiring, pretending to be a man you are not, especially when you hate him. To hide your personality and be regal and dignified and serious, when all you really want to do is laugh, be sarcastic, send someone away to their death.

Sitting back, I think of Thor. I hope he is well, on Midgard. With his mortal lover. I hope they live happily ever after, peacefully. Until the end of her days, merely a heartbeat in the life of my brother. Heʻll be devestated, of course. Yet maybe then heʻll understand. What its like to lose everyone you love. Like I did. I do not want him to feel such heartbreak, but it is better if he does. Heʻll know all I warned him of, then. When he comes rushing home with nothing.

Suddenly, I hear a light footfall. I sit straight up, alert. Is there a trespasser in the castle, or just another guard? Iʻm frozen for a moment, listening for another sound, but, after two minutes, I can conclude that its only my imagination. Hesitantly, I reach under the throne and pick up one of the books I secretively slid beneath it. Moments later, Iʻm too busy reading to listen for anything suspicious. Itʻs getting quite late, but Iʻm too exhausted even to head to bed. Just one more chapter...

Iʻm awoken by something cold and sharp on my throat. I slowly open my eyes to see a hooded figure towering over me, holding a sword in their hand. A sword thatʻs blade is pressed to my throat. My assasin laughs, then says in a voice so husky I cannot tell whether it is a man or a woman, "Iʻm afraid that you might need to improve your security a bit, Asgardian..." I reach frantically for a dagger, finding it hidden inside my sleeve, as usual. I pull it out, using it to push the sword far enough from my throat so that I may stand.

"A dagger? Seriously? Youʻre going to win a fight with me with a goddamn dagger?" the assassin laughs again, and this time, I can conclude it is a woman. She has a good point. I grab the first larger object in sight, which is Odinʻs staff.

Before I make the first move, however, I decide to try a different tactic. "Um, is this really necessary? And first of all... who the hell are you and why do you have a problem with me?"

"Iʻm...well, you donʻt really need to know my name. But many years before, the All-Father gave my mother land on the outer edges of the realm. Yet yesterday, soldiers, of Asgard, came to take it back. Not only that, but I was given the information that Odin no longer rules Asgard. Instead its his adopted son Loki Laufeyson who does so. Even in the far edges of this realm we have heard of you, even if you have never hear my name." So this is the same woman who calls herself Sigyn, who claims she has the right to a puny kingdom. Small as it is, however, Iʻm afraid I canʻt let her have it. If I did, the soldiers, the rebels, they would all know that Loki Laufeyson could be bossed around by a woman. Not only that, but a woman that has little power, no noble blood, just arrogance.

"Iʻm afraid it wonʻt be that easy, my lady Sigyn. I hear that you rule a kingdom, so you must be familiar with how that works. You see, if I let you have part of Asgard, all the world will see that just anybody can boss me around. Iʻve got a deal for you: if I can beat you in a fight, then you shall leave, and I shall never see your face again. Not that Iʻve seen your face, due to your cloak, but thatʻs just a technicality. And if you win, then you shall have your kingdom and you will never have to see my gorgeous face again."

"Fair enough. Though Iʻd like to argue with gorgeous face part. And you do know that I will fight to the death. And I shall have little hesitation killing a liar who has killed many. It would just be a favor to the world," she says.

"You think youʻre so honorable, but youʻre just as bad as I am, my lady. I wonʻt hesitate to kill you either. Are you ready?"

"Always." She springs into action, each move calculated. I fend off each offense, but just barely. Now this is a proper fight!

Sigyn

Spin-duck-slice... then a jump and spin to land facing towards him... lean to side-jab... then spin out of way. Thatʻs my next sequence, I think to myself while almost effortlessly avoiding my opponentʻs poor offensive. To anyone else, this planned technique would be ridiculous. Not to me. Itʻs my secret. A secret that Loki Laufeyson doensʻt no, nor does anyone. Heʻs not bad, really. The fight would be over if I was fighting someone else, most likely. And I would have won. Yet here I am, still dancing, or, as normal people call it, fighting, in a throne room to protect my kingdom. Itʻs a lovely place for a duel, really. Though thatʻs not something you can appreciate if one wrong step could lead to the end of your life.

I stumble briefly. "Damn," I whisper to myself. As I try to regain my footing on the slippery golden steps, the Asgardian takes the chance to make his move. Before I can move, I am suddenly falling, the breath knocked out of me by the side of the spear. The room spins for a moment as I fall, the ceiling now coming closer. I scramble in mid-air to right myself, to try to land on my feet. He was stronger than I expected. Then Iʻm falling again, towards the bottom of the stairs. Sailing through the air, I land with a thud at the bottom of the steps. All of this occurs in only less than five seconds. My head throbs, and I gasp for breath, dizzy. No time, though. I spring to my feet, reaching for my sword. "Damn damn damn damn it!" I mumble to myself. I spy it laying halfway across the room. Loki is running towards me, spear outstretched. Time to act, quickly. Springing to my feet, I ignore the pain, instead focusing on the silver glint. Two feet, one foot from my opponent. At the exact second, I duck, continuing my path towards my weapon. No time to look back to see if it worked. Only time to run. I canʻt be more than ten feet away. It lays beside the throne, which is swiftly approaching. Six feet. Five. At four feet, I feel a sharp pain in my back. I cry out in sudden pain, collapsing to the ground. Heʻs behind me. I know he is without even looking back. Coming closer. Running, ugly green cloak streaming behind him. Is this the way Iʻm going to die? No, not that easily. Inching forward, I reach for my sword with both hands, ignoring the warm blood coating my shirt. Itʻs only inches from my hand. Yet I can feel the spear inches from my throat. If I grab it, heʻll stab me. I could die in seconds. What will I do? My finger reaches the end of the sword. I know heʻs playing games. Heʻs the god of trickery, of course he is. He wants to see what will happen. He wonʻt kill me without giving me a chance. Not because heʻs nice. No, no , not at all. But because this is his effed up entertainment. Killing people. But not this time. He got more than he bargained for messing with me.

The second my right hand wraps around the hilt, I roll to the side. I hear the spear strike the stone instead of my throat, and I know its my cue. I spring to my feet, sword outstretched. Sprinting down the stairs, I aim my sword at his throat. Loki barely jumps out of the way, his face, for the first time, surprised.

"Youʻre not half bad, my lady," he shouts, almost, could it be, playfully.

"I canʻt say the same for you," I shoot back. Itʻs a lie, but a nice one.

He laughs, which is an opportunity for me to make my next strike. Backing up, he avoids it, but again, only barely. Each step he takes is exactly working with my plan. Finally, my sword is at his throat, and heʻs backed against the wall. Yet it passes right through him, and he fizzles out in a display of green light.

"Damn," I whisper, as I turn around to see him smirking, appearing from behind a pillar. "Illusions. Youʻre good."

I quickly spin around, rushing towards him before I finish my sentence. "But youʻre not good enough, Iʻm afraid."

This time, its him who cries out in surprise, narrowly avoiding a blow to the chest. He stumbles backwards and upwards, towards the throne. Each strike, each step, renews my confidence. Moments later, heʻs pinned to the throne, my sword at his throat.

Loki closes his green eyes in apparent defeat. "Youʻre going to kill me, arenʻt you."

"Maybe. Unless you give me a good enough reason not to."

"I wish I had one. At least let me see the face of my killer," he requests. I know this has to be part of a plan, for people like him always have a plan, yet, I, for a strange reason, obey, pulling back my hood.


End file.
